Tima
by coeurgryffondor
Summary: "Be," she repeats in that soft voice that he loves just so much it hurts. / Sweden/fem!Finland, AU nations-as-humans.


Author's note: Su/fem!Fin, AU nations-as-humans. So much love for them as mortals.

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**Tima**

Berwald loves when she buries her head in his chest, his arms pulling her to him as she tries to hide from the world. He himself throws his head back, laughing without care.

Suddenly there's an attack. "You're so mean to me Be!" Tima shouts gleefully, slapping his arm rather hard. She's stronger than she looks, his Finnish girlfriend short and blonde but capable of so much more than most give her credit for. But Berwald knows the truth, the Finn that she really is, and he loves every bit of her for it.

"Ow!" Rubbing his arm, still laughing, Berwald pulls her to his chest, kissing the fluffy hair that's been grown out because the Swede had accidentally mentioned in passing that he liked women with longer hair. He'd told Tima not to do it, that he loved her short hair that he could run his fingers through, quickly coming to the end; short, her hair had been straight like her parents'. When she grew it out, though, it took on a wave that he loves so much, that makes his heart beat wildly when he sees her let it down, shaking out all the strands. Sex hair, Christen had called it, perfect sex hair.

The hair falls over his hands as he rubs her back; with interest he notes that she's not wearing a bra beneath her shirt and undershirt, something Tima rarely did due to her rather disproportionate height to breasts ratio. That makes Berwald smile. "What are you grinning for now?" she protests against his skin. "First you make fun of me-"

"I wasn't," he chuckles, pulling back so that he could hold Tima's face level with his, "making fun of you. I really do love your serious face."

"You mean my 'bitch, please' face?" Tima says it with a bit of anger but also, he sense, a bit of amusement at the English name her Swedish boyfriend had given that face.

"Turns me on," Berwald says seductively, tipping her chin back to kiss her deeply, his tongue quickly demanding entrance that it's granted. Two slender arms wrap around his neck, pulling her closer to him on the basement couch in his parents' house.

A small voice's protests are lost in the kiss until Tima finally breaks it. "Berwald," she says seriously, a hand on his chest to push him away. He moves the hand to cover his racing heart and the Finn melts immediately. "Be," she repeats in that soft voice that he loves just so much it hurts.

"I want you," Berwald whispers in Finnish that's not perfect but that he tries to work on. It had been hard for Tima when she'd moved to Stockholm, he knew that, but in the foreigner the Swedish teen had seen something beautiful, something he had been drawn to without hesitation.

He had never been so sure of what love was in his life before he saw Tima Väinämöinen.

"I love you," he adds in the foreign tongue.

Tima sighs, her shoulders sagging. "Your parents?" He shakes his head.

"Pappa is away on business till Friday and Mamma's not going to be home from work till after midnight."

The small female seems nervous, shifting awkwardly. Berwald knows she doesn't like to have sex in his house; they're never allowed to have sex in hers regardless of everyone being out. But the young couple can only disappear for so many nights to hotels that he doesn't mind paying for because he would give anything to make sure Tima knew how important she was to him. Yet the house is empty, and they were already here, his pants tight….

Hands on chest push the shocked Swede back suddenly, lips crashing against his as Tima shifts to straddle one of his legs, her body nearly laying on his.

Though he's a year older, ready to leave for university after the upcoming summer, Berwald and Tima have spent nearly all their time at school together. Just the week before someone had mistakenly asked if Tima was going to the same university as Berwald? The year gap, he figures, won't be too hard on their two year old relationship since he's not really leaving Stockholm. They joke about the house they'll buy one day, Tima about the engagement ring Berwald will have to buy her or the Swede teasing the shorter Finn that he hopes their children are at least taller than her.

She gasps against his lips when his leg rubs her center. "Here?" he asks. Tima can be fussy as to where they have sex, house or hotel or bed or couch or shower, so he always has to let her pick, which is just fine by the Swede because he only wants to show her how much he loves her.

"Ja."

Everything the girl from Helsinki does is beautiful as she sits atop him, pulling her shirts over her head. And Berwald swears he's never seen anything or anyone more perfect, his lips finding hers as his hands run down her sides. Her hair falls over them and their pale skin blends together as their bodies move in unison. Part of him wants this moment to never end; the rest of Berwald Oxenstierna wants to be with his Finnish love for the next thousand years.


End file.
